[ it sounds familiar. he's said as much to her before, down by the goblin trades, praising her kind heart and indiscriminate compassion. "santa" had mentioned it too, in his letter when he gifted her that coat, and so had "sakata claus" that night in her room. she'd believed it then, of course she did; she trusted gin, even if she isn't quite sure why yet, and she trusts his judgement. it's hard not to... when he speaks, it's like he's seeing right through her, and it's both relieving and a little terrifying, but so far it hasn't resulted in anything regretful.
embarrassing, maybe. but regretful? no.
the point is, it's not something she hasn't already heard before, to some extent, and that's why she looks humbled now, shoulders hunching slightly, eyes flickering away in shame like a student who had had to have the directions repeated for them once more. absently, she reaches up to fiddle with one of her braids, a nervous gesture that at least keeps one of her hands busy while the other grips at her vial.
she almost asks, what is hurting you? but she catches herself in time. good. she's learning. ]
You always seem to know the right thing to say, Mr. Fruit, [ she says around a soft sigh, almost wistful. almost envious. ] Is that your super power?
no subject
embarrassing, maybe. but regretful? no.
the point is, it's not something she hasn't already heard before, to some extent, and that's why she looks humbled now, shoulders hunching slightly, eyes flickering away in shame like a student who had had to have the directions repeated for them once more. absently, she reaches up to fiddle with one of her braids, a nervous gesture that at least keeps one of her hands busy while the other grips at her vial.
she almost asks, what is hurting you? but she catches herself in time. good. she's learning. ]
You always seem to know the right thing to say, Mr. Fruit, [ she says around a soft sigh, almost wistful. almost envious. ] Is that your super power?